Boogeymen - Mel Gilden [33]
“Such as ninjas or the Howes—”
“They moved more slowly than expected. Just as the exits appeared more slowly than expected when other simulated people were present. What about them?” Picard indicated the three Boogeymen on the bridge.
Data said, “I hypothesize that they are moving slowly because the computer has fabricated other Boogeymen who are presently with Wesley.”
“Of course. Delightful. Delightful. Well done, Mr. Data. I believe you have found their Achilles’ heel.” Picard rubbed his chin for a moment and said, “And I believe I have thought of a way to prick it.”
Chapter Seven
DR. CRUSHER SAT at her desk in sickbay turning her medical tricorder on and off. When she turned it on, the tricorder made an audible twinkle and the red power light glowed. When she turned it off, the power light went out. She watched it as if it were blinking a coded message. On. Off. On. Off.
Counselor Troi came into sickbay and sat down across from her without being asked. Troi allowed Crusher to ignore her for a while and then said, “I could feel your concern two decks from here.”
“Sorry,” said Dr. Crusher. She made a self-deprecating smile and turned off the tricorder again. She laid it aside with a certain finality and pressed her hands down flat on the desk. “I’m really fine,” Dr. Crusher said.
“You’re not fine and that’s all right. Your son is missing in the depths of the holodeck and you’re worried. Nothing could be more natural.”
“He’s with Data and the captain. He’ll be fine. I’m fine.”
Troi smiled and said, “An Earth sage once said that a doctor who treats herself has a fool for a patient.”
“Booga-booga,” said Crusher without humor. “How long before Geordi cuts through the door?”
“Maybe another hour. As he continues to remind us, ‘tritanium alloy is not exactly tissue paper.’ “
“A tissue-paper starship wouldn’t be of much use to anybody.”
Troi looked at the ceiling as if a tissue-paper starship were hanging there. “No, it wouldn’t,” she said. “Not much use. It would just be pretty.”
They sat in silence for a while. Dr. Crusher’s hands strayed toward the medical tricorder but didn’t touch it. Troi stood up and said, “Care to join me in Ten Forward?”
Dr. Crusher frowned.
Troi smiled and said, “The ship is full of companels. And besides, Commander Riker can reach you by way of your insignia. Or my insignia. The ship is full of insignia too.”
“It’s office hours.”
“Give yourself the same break you would prescribe to anyone else. Anybody who needs you will be able to find you.”
Dr. Crusher drummed her fingers for a moment. Troi watched her, an inquisitive half smile on her face. “Right,” Dr, Crusher said. She put the tricorder away and squeezed Troi’s hand as they went out.
Evidently the computer had not been able to guess what Picard and Data had in mind because they arrived safely at the recreation deck. As they strode onto the large open floor, Picard said, “You might have told me before about this slowdown.”
“It’s only a theory, sir. Attempting to contact Wesley by companel or insignia seemed to offer more hope of success.”
“Taking advantage of that slowdown is our only hope now,” Picard said as he glanced around. He imagined that the large open space was filled with ghosts, all watching him, waiting for him and Data to try one more solution and fail.
The rec deck was the largest open area on the ship. With the help of the main computer, sections of the floor could be laid out for basketball, horseshoes, shuffleboard, one-thumb, almost any sport enjoyed by any species in the Federation. Even on a ship where a holodeck was available, it was sometimes important for beings to know they were playing against other beings and not against a computer simulation. Sometimes make-believe was not good enough.
At the moment, the important thing about the rec deck was that a large proportion of the Enterprise’s crew could meet there at one time. Such a space was necessary not only for sports but because live performances of music and drama had